


Bring Me Home

by Kedreeva



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Gen, Leviathans, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/pseuds/Kedreeva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commission for Woone5 on Tumblr for the Dashcon Teen Wolf committee auctions.<br/>--------<br/>A different ending to the lake scene in season 7.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [woone5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/woone5/gifts).



 

 Once upon a time, Dean had experienced the hardest moment of his life. He had watched his baby brother, the person who was Dean's entire reason for existing, toss himself from a precipice and into the bowels of Hell. Dean knew what it was like down there. He knew the screaming and the pain and the soul-consuming desire to make it all end by whatever means necessary. He knew the hopelessness, how it turned everything inside of a person black until there was nothing left, and he'd had no choice but to watch Sam accept it. To watch Sam leave him.

 Dean would be lying if he said this was worse, but it certainly wasn't better.

 They had arrived moments before, skirting through the open, unguarded gate just in time to see Castiel trudging through the water toward the lake's center. He'd held his arms open, unwittingly mirroring Sam the moment before he had sacrificed himself. Dean couldn't force words through the constriction in his chest as he watched Castiel disappear beneath the surface of the gently stirring lake. He wanted to shout. He wanted to demand Castiel turn around, look at him, come back to shore. Anything.

 Then he was gone, and they were alone on shore, staring at the calm water. They watched the explosion of black slime as it feathered out underwater, racing away to find new victims. Dean took a step toward the edge of the lake but halted, the vision of Castiel dripping black goo from his fingertips stark in his mind. He'd barely been held together. The chances of anything being left...

 "Damn it," Dean let out in a rush, clenching his jaw. This was so ridiculous. If only Castiel had listened to him before, had just left that doorway closed. They could have found another way, any other way.

 "You said it," Bobby agreed. "Those... whatever-you-call-ems-"

 "Leviathan," Sam said, and he sounded defeated. Like maybe he knew what they were, or at least some part of him knew. Dean wondered how much of Lucifer's knowledge bled through to Sam in the Cage. Enough to scare him but not enough to useful, most likely.

 "Right." Bobby looked back toward the lake, like maybe he could glean some sort of knowledge from it. "If they're in the pipes, they got themselves a highway to anywhere."

 "Awesome." Dean shook his head. That was what they needed; ancient, hungry monsters no hunters anywhere would be ready or equipped to fight, on top of losing Castiel. His gaze turned back out to the water, to where Castiel had disappeared, and a flash of brown caught the edge of his vision.

 The trench coat.

 Castiel's trench coat.

 Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, then steeled himself as he reached down and curled his fingers into the sodden material. It was heavy, water sluicing from it as he lifted it out of the lake. It was strangely intact, dirty but free of the goo Castiel had been leaking last they saw him. His brain ground to a halt, world zeroing in on the object in his hand.

 "Okay," he said, trying to kick start his thoughts. It wasn't working well. This shouldn't have happened. "So, he's gone." He didn't care if it looked like he was about to cry; he wasn't. He wasn't going to. He had lost people before.

 He tried not to think about how Castiel had come to be more than just people to Dean.

 "Yup," Bobby agreed. There was sympathy in his voice. Dean hated it. "Rest in peace, if that's in the cards."

 Dean felt numb as he folded the coat over itself, lake water running off it as the fabric flexed and squeezed to accommodate his motions. This shouldn't have happened. Castiel should have listened. "Dumb son of a bitch," he murmured. If only he'd listened to Dean.

 Dean didn't see the look Sam gave him, the one that said that Sam thought he was going to do something stupid. He felt like he was. He didn't tell them that. He just squeezed a hand into the trench coat, tried not to think about how cold it was without being wrapped around Castiel.

 "Well, he was friends with us, wasn't he?" Bobby asked, drawing their attention. It always came back to that; being friends with a Winchester. It just got everyone killed. "Can't get much dumber than that." Bobby looked a second away from patting Dean on the shoulder, but he didn't. Dean couldn't tell if that was better or worse. "Come on. Those things will be coming up for air soon."

 Bobby turned away, walked past Dean to head for the car. Sam glanced to Bobby, but he didn't move until Dean did. Until Dean took a hesitant step forward and then stuttered to a halt. "Dean?"

 But Dean was staring at the trench coat, hands grasping the rough material, mind spiraling endlessly around his loss. Around how Cas should have listened, around how Dean couldn't stand to lose another family member, around how the trench coat was in one piece, despite the explosion. Castiel may have been a supernatural creature, but the trench coat wasn't. Dean looked up and met Sam's eyes.

 "Dean, no- Dean!" Sam called sharply as Dean turned back to the lake, dropping the coat at his feet. Sam made a grab for his shoulder, but Dean was already at the water's edge.

 A moment later he had kicked off his shoes and was swimming. It was difficult to stay afloat with all his clothes on, and but Dean was strong. This mattered. This was Castiel.

 Dean had watched Sam disappear into oblivion. He'd sat by and let him go because he had promised Sam that he would. He had not gone in after him, had not sought a way to bring him back because he had promised that he wouldn't.

 He had made no such promise to Castiel.

 Water rushed in over him as he upended himself and dove, kicking hard to get as much depth as he could. The lake was man-made, not very deep, and remarkably clear even as Dean reached the bottom. His eyes burned as he squinted them open, looking for any sign of the body he knew had to be there. Castiel had to be there.

 When Dean's lungs began to scream at him, he kicked back to the surface. He gasped in, using the moment of treading water to throw his gaze around to the depths, searching for the bright spot of color that would be Castiel's skin, Castiel's face. A flash to his left and he took a breath, submerging in pursuit of it.

 He was there.

 Not moving, not struggling, but he was there.

 Dean looped his arms under Castiel's, glad now that he wasn't wearing the trench coat, and dragged them both back tot he surface. The moment Sam saw them, he was in the water as well, shouting Dean's name. They swam toward one another, Dean much slower. Relief washed through him when Sam took part of the burden, and for once Dean let him.

 They dragged Castiel back to shore and Bobby was there waiting, helping them the moment they were in range. Castiel was dead weight as they rolled him onto the grassy, muddy beach. Dean pushed at his panic, willing it away as he crouched beside the unresponsive angel.

 "C'mon, Cas," he pleaded softly. "We dragged your ass out."

 But Castiel wasn't moving, wasn't breathing. His eyes were cracked open, the bright blue of them fogged over in a way Dean told himself he didn't recognize. He was a damn angel. They didn't need to breathe. They didn't. Castiel could have lived on the bottom of the ocean or so high in the mountains humans needed special equipment. This wasn't right.

 "Dean," Sam said softly. He was using the let it go tone, the one that said Dean was behaving irrationally. Anger welled up inside of Dean, but he pushed that aside as well. Castiel wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

 He'd come back to them before.

 He had to come back.

 Around him, Sam and Bobby stood silently watching. Dean could practically feel their hesitation roiling off them, unsure how to handle this. Bobby wanted to leave. Sam wanted Dean to pick himself up and keep moving, because Dean always picked himself up and kept moving. Because if Dean didn't, Sam wouldn't know what to do, and for once Dean just... he just wanted a moment where he didn't have to keep going. He wanted a moment where the world wasn't crashing down around their ears. He wanted Castiel to open his eyes and fix this with them.

 Frustration coiled tight for a split second. "You stupid son of a bitch," Dean ground out, splaying a hand on Castiel's chest. It didn't rise. "You should have just listened to us!" He slammed his hand down on Castiel's chest, angry.

 Castiel jumped beneath the assault, coughing thickly as he rolled onto his side away from Dean. Water spilled from him as he heaved and everyone took a step back, Dean scrambling a little back on his hands to give Castiel space. He sounded raw.

 "If you could refrain from beating me while I heal," Castiel choked out between breaths, "I would be grateful."

 "Geezus, Cas," Dean breathed, reaching out to steady the wobbly angel as relief washed through him so thickly he felt dizzy, himself. "You're alive."

 Castiel shot him a withering look. "So I observed. I'm very surprised."

 "The explosion..." Sam started, letting the sentence trail off to the upward pitch of a question.

 Sitting up, Castiel brought his legs around and drew in a careful breath. His hair was flattened and stuck to his head in a particularly unflattering way. "Yes. I attempted to drag them into the Veil with me. I was... unsuccessful. They escaped my grasp. They are very powerful." He gave them all a significant look.

 The group exchanged a worried glance, and then Bobby cleared his throat. "Well we ain't getting any closer to stopping them by sitting here yapping. You with us or not?"

 "With you," Castiel told him, allowing Dean to help him to his feet. He lifted accepted his trench coat from Dean, fingertips brushing against Dean's knuckles and lingering perhaps a moment too long. When their eyes met, Castiel had the good grace to look chagrined. "I should have been from the start."

 Dean didn't say anything, because Castiel should have been, but all he could think or feel was how relieved he was to have Castiel back now. Without another word, the soggy group headed for the car, together.


End file.
